


Bloodlust

by ThePredator



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Dark, Fluff and Angst, King Derek Hale, King Stiles Stilinski, M/M, Slow Build, Vampire Stiles Stilinski, Vampires
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-01
Updated: 2018-03-29
Packaged: 2019-01-07 14:52:06
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,453
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12235113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThePredator/pseuds/ThePredator
Summary: I wrote this because lately I've been watching Queen of the Damned over and over, and I love Vampire Stiles so why not. (Even though I should really finish my other fics lol)





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I wrote this because lately I've been watching Queen of the Damned over and over, and I love Vampire Stiles so why not. (Even though I should really finish my other fics lol)

Derek Hale had grown use to the muffled thunder of music from the hidden clubs in Beacon Hills made exclusive for Supernatural creatures, but he’d never stepped foot in one until now.   
The music was eerie, loud, and the voice that sang was growling and moaning into Derek’s sensitive ears causing the hairs on the back of his neck to stand up. Vampire music was usually played in their clubs due to the lustful sounds and entrancing vibrations, but for Derek it set him on edge. Like him, most Werewolves became uneasy at the sound of a Vampire humming and whispering into their ears even for entertainment. The moment Derek stepped into the club his senses seemed to burst forth causing his brain to whirl with the different scents. He felt illuminating stares breech his path, and it was quite an effort to ease past the crowd of swaying people to get near the private section of the club.   
The lights were shut off, but replaced with deep reds, purples, and blues to create a sexual undertone to the club. It was Vampire night. Derek could smell the thick rustic smell of blood adorning the bar, and the countless silver eyes that flashed at him had proven he couldn’t have picked a worse night to come. But he knew where he needed to go, and he was set on getting there.  
The private lounge was exclusive only to Vampires on nights like these, but the moment Derek took one look at the guard Erica, she smiled fondly at him and allowed him through, no questions asked. The lounge was humid with thick scents of sex, blood, and fear. Derek ignored the sounds, the Mortal and Vampire scents mingling, and strode to the far room where he then hesitated with his hand on the heavy black satin curtain. With a clenched jaw Derek shoved the curtain aside, revealing the most intoxicating sight, smell, and probably taste of the entire town of Beacon Hills.   
Stiles Stilinski sat casually in a plush red couch, his long legs outstretched, spread in the most uncaring way, his black dress shirt unbuttoned and rumpled, revealing his pale mole speckled skin, a stark contrast to his dark honey eyes and lush brunette hair. His gaze slowly rose from his wine glass full of thick blood, meeting Derek’s with an expectant desire that Derek found hard to ignore.   
“Well if it isn’t the big bad wolf.” He spoke with a permanent smirk, his voice caressing Derek’s ears as it always did. A low teasing, almost threatening chuckle escaped his stained lips as he breathed in, his eyes flashing silver. “Smelling mouthwatering as always.”   
Derek’s heart skipped, and Stiles glared up in the most menacing way. Then as always Derek was already at a loss for words, but then again Stiles didn’t look like he wanted to do much more talking by the way his eyes were panning up and down Derek’s body.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry it's been so long, but I really wasn't sure where to take this. I do however have a storyline in mind for this now, so yeah lol.

“I’m here to talk.” Derek ground out, knowing he sounded annoyed and gruff as always.

Stiles remained composed, but a small flicker in his eyes told Derek that he knew what was coming. “Of course you are, I never see Derek Hale in here to have fun, only to talk about politics.” Stiles’ tone was disappointed, and his entire demeanor shifted to a tense posture.

“I had a simple request, Stiles, to keep your coven away from my pack.”

That earned a more angered glare from the vampire. “Is that how you want to do this?”

Derek flared his nostrils, watching Stiles rise gracefully to his feet, an unwavering look of poise and challenge in his eyes. “You know as well as I do how dangerous this could be, it’s nothing against you or your coven-“

“Oh I know, it’s just the fact that two of our own are together.”

Derek growled softly, looking around as if they weren’t in a private area, “Keep your voice down!” He hissed.

Stiles looked unscathed by his own forbidden words. “I do wonder who it is though, both yours and mine do pretty well at hiding their mingling scents even from their own creators.” He said thoughtfully, caressing his wine glass with care.

He wasn’t wrong, Derek had spent the entire week trying to question his pack, but they’d all remained silent as if they all knew who was sneaking out at night. None of them even cared that Derek was their Alpha it seemed, their need to protect their pack members was more powerful to them. “Listen,” Derek said quietly, catching Stiles’ attention, “you know what next week is-“

“Of course I do.” Stiles said briskly, taking a final gulp of blood, trying his best to hide the anxiety from Derek, but Derek could sense it as always, it was a permanent part of Stiles’ scent anyway. “And we have our own precautions during blood moons.”

“Which entails what exactly, your newly turned vampires feeding on anything in sight?” Derek snapped.

“Well of course! Your betas always seem to tear into any living thing don’t they?” Stiles said sarcastically, “For your information, vampires are turned off by the taste of wolf blood.” His words felt like an insult, but Derek should have felt at ease by his fact. “Members that have mates will be in their own rooms the entire night, and my single members will feed as long as they need in the privacy of the manor. It’s a difficult night for them all, but I assure you I’ll be there to watch the ones without mates.”

“What the hell do mates have to do with them being blood thirsty?”

Stiles’ eyes flickered back to Derek, a brief flash of silver blinding Derek. “Vampires and Werewolves aren’t as different as you seem to believe, you know.” His voice was low, almost hurt.

Derek was at a loss for words, but pushed the words away just as another annoying song had come on. “I need to go, that’s all I wanted to say…”

Stiles arched an eyebrow, “Next time write me a letter like old times, and I miss those angry little scribbles always reminding me of how shit I am at being King.”

“I gave up on that when you kept changing the topic to ask trivial questions.”

“Knowing a fellow King’s favorite color is a very important fact.” Stiles said with a smirk.  
Derek rolled his eyes, shaking his head with real frustration before finally turning and striding from the club. 

**

The September moon was glittering a gold spotlight onto the thick, thriving forest of Beacon Hills. On distant streets, most shops were closing while some were opening for their highly anticipated and somewhat feared guests. Derek Hale sat alone in his bedroom, staring out at the moon that seemed to blare down at him in the most inviting way. He loved nights like these, it was crisp outside, deadly silent besides the occasional shutter of branches against the Hale house. Derek missed the comforting feeling of his mother’s howl that would alert her pack when they were free to roam the woods, and in many ways he felt depressed that he was now the Alpha who was expected to lead his pack into the night.

The comforting scent of firewood, pine needles, and moss consumed the entire Hale house where Derek could faintly hear his rowdy pack wrestling in the yard, and some quietly reading in the living area. He should be happy, he should feel safe, and maybe even proud, but there was no denying the emptiness. It had been a year to this day that Derek’s mother, Talia Hale had been murdered with no evidence, no clues, and no remains of who could have done it. Derek remembered running to the hospital with his twin sister Laura and younger sister Cora, all three in a panic only to walk in on their mother’s ashen corpse, drained of all blood and life. At the time Derek was overcome with sheer rage, and he had made the irrational decision of ridding the world of every Vampire he could find, but as if the universe was laughing in his face the door of the morgue opened.

Stiles Stilinski stepped in, his pale complexion had been paler than usual, and his amber eyes glared holes into Derek’s. As if everything seemed to snap, both men lunged at one another in a fit of shared anger, ragged claws connected with silky white skin while silver eyes met newly red ones, and guttural growls clashed in the frigid room. Laura and Cora immediately stepped in, pulling the two apart, shouting for them to look at something. Beside Talia laid two bodies belonging to Claudia and Johnathan Stilinski, both of their torsos had been shredded through in the most unforgiving way.

In that moment Stiles took notice of Talia’s body, drained, but with two clean holes on her throat. Suddenly Derek realized the situation at hand wasn’t quite black and white though it looked that way, something was off, and by the way Stiles, Laura, and Cora glared down at all three bodies, they seemed to agree.

Since that day, Derek slipped into a dark depression he’d never known possible. Becoming an Alpha was something he and Laura had argued over their entire childhood, but when that final moment came Laura ultimately made the private decision to give the rank to her brother rather than sharing it or taking over. Derek hated her for it sometimes, but he appreciated her helping Derek with their pack. After the death of Talia Hale, five older members of the Hale pack had been slain the exact way, and suddenly their pack consisted of only Derek, Laura, Cora, Malia their cousin, and her father Peter. That was when Derek needed to wake up and realize there was someone out there picking off each Hale one by one. Similar deaths had occurred in the Stilinski Coven once Stiles became their leader. Exactly five older Vampires had been mauled and left for dead leaving only Stiles, Jordan Parrish, Lydia Martin, Jackson Whittemore, and Isaac Lahey.

For the past year, it seemed both Derek and Stiles had worked to build their Pack and Coven one by one. New additions in the Hale Pack were Vernon Boyd, Ethan, and Aiden. For the Stilinski’s they embraced Erica Reyes.

“Derek!” Laura’s rather loud voice boomed through Derek’s thoughts, pulling him back to reality. “Come on we’re going to be late you dumbass!”

Derek rolled his eyes, straightening his suit before moving from his window. His bedroom was uncomfortably tidy, books all sorted away, bedding pristine, and Derek was reminded that this is what came with being the most powerful Alpha of the West Coast. With his power came donations, praise, and servants whom insisted on working for the Pack. Matt was the head servant, and had been assigned so by Talia herself since she’d seen great respect and potential in the boy. Derek always felt strange having another Werewolf’s scent in his bedroom, but Matt did his job consistently, so there was no use in complaining.

Once Derek exited his room, he caught sight of Laura and Cora chatting by the front door while the rest of the pack was dispersed throughout the house and land. Both sisters were dressed in extravagant dresses, Laura wore an eye catching red dress that exposed her back while Cora wore a black silky dress that stopped just above her knees.

“Ugh, finally can we please get this night over with?” Cora huffed, shifting uncomfortably in her dress. Derek sometimes felt as if Cora was actually meant to be his twin rather than Laura.

“Yeah, yeah I’m ready.” Derek snapped, following the girls outside where their business car awaited with the driver waiting patiently.

They drove through the lengthy path from the Hale House, and through the abandoned streets of Beacon Hills there were the occasional passerby’s who would stare or back away as the vehicle sped by. It only took twenty minutes to reach the other side of Beacon Hills where the paved road leading up to the Stilinski Manor greeted them. Thick lines of trees flitted by the windows, and the closer they got Derek began hearing the echoing growls of music, Vampire music to be more specific. His claws itched to expand, but before he could react the car stopped, and it was time for the three to make an entrance.

Stilinski Manor stood tall, dark, and heavily intimidating under the glowing moonlight. The house was quite Victorian, lightly colored on the exterior with dark stone trimming the bottom of the structure. There were stained glass windows scattered as decoration, mixing with regular windows all the way to the top floor. Derek could hear voices of guests chatting while the click of expensive heels and clinks of glasses set him on edge.

“Peter and Malia said they’d be here later with Boyd.” Laura said easily. “Aiden and Ethan are already here.”

Derek only nodded, following his sisters to the front entrance where Laura immediately greeted Jennifer Blake, a local witch, and Cora seemed to be in her own world. A familiar chill ran down Derek’s spine, and slowly he glanced up to see the tall, looming figure of Stiles Stilinski standing on his bedroom balcony with a drink in hand, casually staring down at Derek with a sly smirk. From here Derek could see Stiles’ long fingers cradling his glass with a gentleness Derek hadn’t known Vampires were capable of. They didn’t break eye contact until Cora nudged Derek forward to enter the Manor.

**

It had already been an hour since the party had started, and Stiles already wanted to end it. Everyone seemed to be having a good time, well everyone except for Derek Hale. They had sat on opposite sides of the ballroom, both catching the other’s eyes when there was the occasional break in the crowd of dancing supernaturals. And it only took one simple eyebrow raise from the Alpha for Stiles to make his escape from everyone. He loved toying with Derek, but the moment it was tossed right back to him it felt like a challenge he couldn’t win.

Stiles retreated to his bedroom where the moonlight poured onto his black silk bedspread through the opened canopy. It had been a tradition through the generations for the Supernatural balls to be held at ones house, and the Stilinski Manor was next on the list. The music faded into the background as Stiles fell back onto his bed with a huff.

A quiet knock came from his door making him sigh, “Come in.” Isaac had never been good with parties. Stiles leaned up, “Isaac I’ve told y-“

Derek Hale stood in the doorway, half in and half out as if he felt just as confused as Stiles. “Uh...I’ll-“

“No, no!” Stiles quickly rose from his bed feeling incredibly taken off guard. “Sorry, Isaac…he hates parties I thought he was coming up here to get away.”

Derek’s face hardened at that, his eyes shifting momentarily to Stiles’ unmade bed. “Right.” Was all he said before shutting the door behind him.

“So what brings the big bad Alpha to my bedroom so late in the night?” Stiles purred.

Derek shifted awkwardly by the door, his eyes still on the bed. “I don’t know, I guess I hate parties too.”

That made Stiles’ undead heart melt, never had he imagined the scariest Alpha out there to be so bashful. “Well, that makes two of us.” Stiles said, making his way to his balcony doors. He paused, briefly smiling at Derek, “Wanna come sit, drink some wine?” Derek looked as if he wanted to run out of the room, but seemed to decide against it.

The two stepped onto the marble balcony, the sight of overgrown vines tangled over the railing greeting them. Stiles plopped down onto one of his iron black chairs, Derek following suit. The moment Derek leaned back in his chair, his eyes flickered up to the quarter moon above them.

“I suppose I should say thank you for not planning this party during a full moon.” Derek said thoughtfully.

“Or a New Moon.” Stiles muttered with a smile.

“What do you mean?”

“The New Moon is typically a time for feeding in my Coven, we all get together and feed sounds boring, but it’s quite the bonding experience.”

Derek looked intrigued, “I thought that was only during a Blood Moon.”

Stiles’ eyes flickered momentarily, causing Derek to freeze. “Oh, those are different.” Stiles shifted in his chair, clearing his throat, “We feed of course, but traditionally those are nights meant for us to feed on one another.”

“Feed…on each other?” Derek looked even more confused.

“My coven only does consensual feedings-“

“I know that, just…if you can feed on other vampires why not do that instead of humans, and risk killing them or turning them?”

“Well, it’s not that simple. You see all creatures have different flavored blood, humans have this unique flavor, kind of like water for us as if it’s the only thing that can truly nourish our bodies. Vampire blood has a certain…other worldly taste, unless of course it’s the blood of your mate. Take Jackson and Lydia for instance, them being mates, they feed on one another whenever they please, and from what I’ve seen it brings on a sort of sexual frenzy if they get too lost in the bloodlust. The full moon for your kind brings on an animalistic pull, something that makes you feel uncaged, perhaps even vulnerable in the right way.”

“How could you know that?” Derek asked quietly.

Stiles smiled at that, “Because the Blood Moon is the same way for my kind.”

“So why feed on your own, I mean, I never have an urge to tear into my pack.”

“See this is where my knowledge of your kind is scarce. For your kind it seems as if you’re all the wrath of the supernatural world, and well for vampires, it would be…lust.”

Stiles couldn’t help but notice the way Derek’s eyes darkened at that. “Oh.” Was all Derek muttered.

“That’s not me saying we all get together and have some blood orgy under the moonlight.” Stiles said. “I usually just sit alone in my room, or sit out here and drink human blood alone. For those with mates, it’s a lot more entertaining, and fulfilling I guess I should say.”

“Oh.” Derek said again, he appeared partially uncomfortable, and partially interested. They sat in silence for a while, and just as Stiles figured he’d made the entire night completely awkward Derek muttered a soft, “The same could be said for full moons.”

And in that moment, the two finally had a moment of quiet agreement. Two socially awkward, and painfully single creatures trying to uphold their dead parents’ roles in Beacon Hills. The night was cold, silent besides the thrum of music coming from the first floor, and Stiles felt like the night had finally gotten better.

“I’m sorry for last Friday night.” Derek murmured quietly.

Stiles only nodded, “I could say the same, but I’m not blaming you for our own being together.”

Derek sighed softly, leaning back in his seat, watching the garden below Stiles’ balcony where party goers swayed to the music. “I guess we should at least show our faces before the end of the night.”

“First and final dance of the night for us both I suppose.” Stiles said with a chuckle, following Derek from his room. The supernatural ball was ancient, as was the traditional dance that all royalty had to partake in, ending the night. This however was Stiles and Derek’s first dances since this was their first official ball where they were the town’s only royalty. Stiles remembered watching his parents sway to the music at the end of their parties, but he refused to think too hard on the fond memory, he wanted this night to be over as soon as possible.

The town’s druid, Deaton stood by a small group of local witches with a polite smile. He turned his attention to Derek and Stiles once they entered the ballroom, he said a quick goodbye to the witches, and made his way over to the two boys.

“King Hale, King Stilinski.” He said with a tilt of his head, “As tradition, you’re both required to perform the final dance of the ball.” Deaton was in a lot of ways the wiser teacher to both Stiles and Derek since their parent’s demise. He made sure to attend any supernatural council meetings while assisting the two new kings with knowledge they hadn’t had time to learn.

“Hate to break it to you, doc, but neither one of us have a mate to dance with.” Stiles said with the hope of skipping the dance.

Deaton smiled at that, “Well you see, I was hoping I could convince you two to perhaps dance together.”

Derek and Stiles both tensed, neither one looking to the other.

“I know you might not like it, but you see the Melra Pack is here as well as the Vahel Coven, I’ve spoken to their leaders, and I really believe a peace treaty could be in act with just one final push.”

Stiles’ eyes flickered involuntarily to the two groups, Rosa Vahel in particular was staring daggers into Stiles’ eyes as she typically did at gatherings. The two had had their own history, loveless nights, and frenzies of feedings-

“You want us to lie?” Derek interrupted Stiles’ thoughts as he usually did.

“Not lie, this is just a subtle, yet bold statement to everyone here that you two aren’t enemies. It could truly fix many of the problems in the Supernatural world.” Deaton seemed convinced by his own idea, and Stiles had to admit it made more sense than he’d want to say.

“I’m fine with it if Derek is.” Stiles said calmly, ignoring Derek’s baffled expression.

There was a lengthy pause, and Deaton took that time to leave just as the final song began to play. A low violin rang through the room, hushing the crowd, and drawing everyone’s attention to Derek and Stiles who stood stiffly beside one another. Stiles felt himself panic, the feeling of rejection setting in as fast as he could comprehend.

Without a word Derek pulled Stiles’ pale hand into his own, and slowly walked backwards to the center of the room, pulling the Vampire with him. The music was swelling, entrancing the guests, and Derek took that moment to pull Stiles against his front, his eyes bore into Stiles’ with an intensity Stiles had never seen. Derek wrapped his arm around Stiles’ waist, an unreadable expression on his face. From here Stiles could see the sharp curvature of the Wolf’s nose, the faint scar that cut through his thick eyebrow, and the illuminating sight of his hazel green eyes. There was an innocence behind his eyes, drawing Stiles in further, it felt as if Stiles was facing a grown man who had to grow up far too fast.

They moved with a slow grace, Stiles danced more practiced and dramatic than Derek. Derek was more dominating, leading, and grounded through the dance. Neither one broke eye contact, both seemed lost in their own thoughts as they always were. Derek felt like an unknown warmth under Stiles’ cold grip, something Stiles had never felt. The wolf smelled of pine, freshly dug dirt, and a musky earth tone that Stiles melted in. He felt like the entire room had faded out, there was no one there, no one watching, it was just him and Derek in their own world that no one knew existed.

A distant echo of applause pressed its way into Derek and Stiles’ barrier of silence, making them both painfully aware that the song had ended, and they were still dancing. Derek was the first to break away quickly, his expression closed off and distant. Stiles felt his head drop for a moment, feeling the embarrassment and uncertainty set in quickly. The guests were delighted, mostly in shock, and Stiles didn’t miss the amazed looks on the Melra Pack and Vahel Coven’s faces. Deaton as well looked pleased that his plan had worked, everyone seemed so damn happy while all Stiles wanted to do was escape. Derek made no move to look Stiles in the eye, but instead strode past the guests, and straight out the front door.

“Parish!” Stiles found himself spitting out.

Jordan was by his side in an instant, a look of confusion on his pale face. “Yes, King Stilinski?”

“Show our guests out, please.” Was all he could get out before returning to his bedroom. It took as much resistance as he could muster to not bolt his way upstairs. It was all stupid, the way he was reacting, the way he felt, how all he wanted to do was crash into his bed and bury his face in the cold compression of his satin pillows. As soon as Stiles slammed his doors shut, he ripped his jacket off along with his tie, not bothering to fully get changed before he fell into the comfort of his bed.

He turned to face the French doors of his balcony, the looming quarter moon mocking him in his distress. Then it hit him, the blood moon was only two days away. His stomach twisted into embarrassment, but also the awareness that his emotions were going haywire because of the moon cycle. Stiles turned from the moon, staring at the left side of his bedroom, it was a mess as always, books lay scattered about the floor, forgotten items of clothing strewn from the bathroom threshold into the bedroom, and cluttered quantities of previously lit candles adorned the marble fireplace, frozen wax stuck to the pristine top, small photos of family and friends were placed delicately by the candles slowly becoming stuck by the careless wax. Piles of ancient books stacked by the dark violet armchair that had been his mothers. If Stiles parents could see him now, they’d be so disappointed in how much of a mess he’d become. He’d heard the complaints of other vampires of the town, many leaving after he’d shown his ass as the Vampire King after a week he’d shown up to a council meeting drunk and blunt. He’d truly spoken his mind to the local wendigo’s that day, Deaton had quickly recovered the situation, but that was the day that truly showed everyone their suspicions had been right; Stiles Stilinski wasn’t mature enough to be a King. Derek had been to the same meeting, sober of course, quiet, just a frustrated expression for Stiles when he saw him stagger through the door.

Stiles growled into his pillow. Fucking Derek Hale and his stupid leadership qualities that just seemed to be engrained in him as soon as he’d been born. Derek was just as self-deprecating as Stiles, but it was obvious Derek was meant to be a leader, a King, an Alpha. The town saw Derek Hale as the boy that’d been forced to grow up too soon, the werewolf that picked up his pack on his own, took responsibility, and everything Stiles wasn’t capable of doing.

Stiles closed his eyes, rolling onto his back, and staring up at the black canopy roof of his bed. His eyes followed the way the silk canopy curtains swayed in the cold breeze coming through his balcony doors, bristling the pages of open books in the room. He finally shrugged out of his dress pants and shirt before pulling the covers over him in an effort to block out the world. He moved to his stomach, staring out into the night sky where he could only stare at the illuminating moon, closing his eyes, Stiles breathed in the comforting scent of moss and lavender from deep in the forests of Beacon Hills.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope the story doesn't sound like it's moving too fast. They aren't getting together right away, but if there's any requests like idk couples, tropes, fluffy stuff, dark stuff, or anything pleeeease let me know so I can make the story better for you guys lol.


	3. Chapter 3

_Dear King Hale,_

_My Coven will be spending the blood moon in Vahel territory, I write this with hopes of easing your worries of them._

_King Stilinski_

Derek stared down at the letter, the shortest letter he’d ever received from Stiles, and probably the only one he’d ever addressed Derek as “King Hale” in. With a quick glance outside, Derek stared out at the rising moon, the Blood Moon would be tomorrow.

“What’s wrong?” Laura asked from the kitchen, seeing Derek’s expression as he reread the short message.

“I’m going out, I’ll be back later.”

**

“Remember to call me as soon as you get there.”

“Alright, mom” Erica said with a smirk.

Stiles sighed, “Erica-“

“Kidding, yes I’ll call you.” She looked a little too eager to ditch the manor for the next few nights, but Stiles refused to feel hurt. Erica was always excited to meet new people, and this was going to be her first Blood Moon.

“I still think you should be here.” Stiles murmured, watching the coven flit around the lounge room in anticipation to leave.

Erica rolled her chestnut eyes, “I’ll be fine, and everyone will keep me in check.”

“I know.” Stiles sighed. The sound of a distant rumbling car caught everyone’s attention instantly.

“They’re here!” Lydia squealed, “See you next week Stiles!” She pulled Jackson outside with her, Isaac waved to Stiles with a small smile, and finally Erica pulled Stiles into a hug before following Parish out to the car.

It all happened so quick, the silence already overbearing to Stiles while he stood by the window watching the sleek red car speed off into the distance.

A rough knock sounded on the front door right when Stiles turned to retreat up to his study. He furrowed his brows, but walked to the large oak doors, pulling one open to reveal a fretful Derek Hale.

“Der-“

“You don’t have to go.” Was all he said, his eyes wide in frustration.

“What?”

“You can spend the Blood Moon here, I was just being an asshole, I-I”

“I am spending the Blood Moon here, what the hell are you on about?”

“The letter, you, you said I was worried, and you were leaving, and you called me King Derek-“ this time Derek cut himself off, a light brush of pink dusting his sun kissed skin.

“Come in, Derek.”

The two moved to the couch, the crackling of the fireplace replacing the silence between them.

“I feel like an idiot.” Derek finally muttered to himself, staring at the fire. “I just thought I’d pissed you off, all this council bullshit, just last night got me thinking about how they’d all baited us into believing our own kind was the cause of our parents death, and now they want us to get along for their own amusement, for their own gain. I don’t know how my mom did this, how she could decide things, plan things, make appearances, make friends. I don’t know how everyone loved her, but everyone hates me. I’m tired of this, being in charge of an entire pack while they themselves don’t give a shit what I think, I’m tired of the meetings, I’m tired of these bull shit parties we’re required to do.” Derek turned to look at Stiles for the first time, his eyes looking far younger than they did before. “I’m tired of pretending to hate you, Stiles.”

Stiles’ breath caught in his throat, “Fuck the council.” Was all he could get out for the moment, actually making Derek huff a small laugh. “Seriously, they’re so divided, so against the mingling of weres and vamps, I mean what’s the big deal? One of my vampires is with one of your werewolves, so what-“

“They could die.” Derek said, his entire demeanor changing as it always seemed to do around Stiles.

“That could be bullshit-“

“It could be true.” Derek said harshly.

“Neither one of ours have died.”

“Which means they know that the mating bite could kill them.”

Stiles felt defeated almost instantly, the entire conversation, the openness, the agreements had suddenly flown out the window as soon as the bite had come up. Maybe there wasn’t hope for him and Derek to find any common ground. As long as Stiles could remember, it had been a solid fact in Vampire history that mating with a Werewolf could easily kill both beings if either one bit the other. For a Vampire, a mating bite was more of a mate feeding, most commonly occurring during a wedding ceremony or during sex. For Werewolves it was the same, except theirs was just a bite, for both the bites were always on the lower side of the neck. It was supposed to be a life changing experience that only a lucky few would have, but for a Werewolf/Vampire relationship it was something darker. If a Vampire’s venom connected with a Werewolf’s blood stream, the wolf would die in the most painful way, it would be a long, suffering death. If a Werewolf were to bite a Vampire, the Vampire would suffer the same fate.

“Werewolf and Vampire mates just don’t exist, Stiles.”

Stiles stared at the crackling fire, his entire body numb to the words, his mind somewhere far away that no one could find. “Must be the Blood Moon.” He whispered, his eyes not leaving the fireplace.

“What?”

“I’m going to bed, I have to get ready for tomorrow night.” Stiles said to himself, he felt Derek slowly lift from the couch, and heard the front door creak open.

“Just know, whoever it is from your coven, whoever it is that’s with one of mine, just know I won’t turn them in or hurt them.” With that Derek closed the door behind him.

It was possibly sunrise before Stiles finally carried himself to his bedroom, and fell asleep.

**

It started as it always did, Stiles’ throat was dry, his body was fine for now, but he knew it would get worse. He stared at the heavy black curtains shielding him from the sunlight outside, his mind racing with emotions he didn’t want to deal with on this particular night. Stiles wondered how his coven was, if whomever it was in the group were missing their were lover. He sighed into his pillow before pushing himself from the bed, and walking to his balcony where he drew the curtains, revealing the setting sun, just low enough to not burn his eyes or skin.

The night was already as boring as it always was, except this time he didn’t have a group of friends to talk with. Stiles jogged down the grand marble staircase, heading to the kitchen where Parrish had left a fresh bottle of Stiles’ favorite blood type in the cabinet. The kitchen smelled of grape and metallic as it always did ever since Stiles had been a kid, he remembered his mom cooking feverishly with Stiles following her every move-

Stiles shoved the thoughts away with a deep gulp of blood. The warmth of the thick liquid seemed to heat his entire body, a tingling sensation of comfort replacing the tense feeling of the moon. A low sigh of contentment came from Stiles’ red stained lips before he headed back upstairs to the master bathroom. Blood Moons kept unmated Vampires tense, fidgety, and paranoid, and the only way Stiles knew he could cope was to drink, take a long hot bath, drink more, sit out on his balcony, drink, and finally pass out from pure boredom.

Out of every room in the manor, the master bathroom was Stiles’ favorite. The room was almost entirely marble with the exception of the dark oak counters, the room was almost as big as the master bedroom, the double doors opened to the sink area where Stiles’ miscellaneous hygiene products sat scattered about, the two sinks a harsh white marble, a plush ivory rug sat below the counters. The shower was to the right of the room, pure see through glass with the exception of the two other sides being stained glass, shimmering violet and red in the light. An antique vanity that had once been Claudia Stilinski’s sat to the end of the room, and to make the room even more mystical the back wall of the bathroom was made up of floor length windows that opened out to the lush expanse of trees behind the manor, and sitting right in the center with the perfect view was the grand bathtub made of entirely marble, descending on all sides were two levels of stairs. Ancient candles, dead flowers, and stacks of towels were surrounding it like it were the main feature of the room.

Stiles began lighting the candles around the room while the tub filled up, and finally dropped his boxers before lowering himself into the hot water. He leaned back, resting his head on the smoothed ring of the tub, staring out at the forest below him as he always did. Stiles took long sips of his drink, losing himself in the warmth of the bath and drink to the point of almost feeling delirious. The trees below him were swaying softly in the wind, soft sounds from the woods were echoing into the bathroom around Stiles, pulling him into further relaxation, with the blood moon Stiles always felt as if his senses were heightened.

“This is the life.” Stiles murmured to his empty surroundings, the distant sound of crickets outside making his mood all the merrier. He released a deep sigh before borrowing further into the hot soapy water, and took a long sip of blood. This particular blood moon felt different from the past few Stiles had experienced, granted he’d only had maybe three before in his life, this one felt unbearably lonely to put it mildly. It could have been because his entire coven was gone, or perhaps the fact that he was stuck in an incredibly large, empty home.

Stiles had only realized he’d been laying in the bath for too long when the water had started getting cold, and the soap had completely faded away. With shaky hands, he lifted himself up, noting he’d ran out of blood quicker than usual, and pulled a towel around his waist. He fumbled for the door handle, yanking it open, and staggering into his bedroom. He was becoming delirious, something that rarely happened to him during blood moons. This one felt worse than past ones, almost painful even with a supply of blood to keep him company. Stiles collapsed into his cold bed, barely having time to think before he fell into a coma like sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love how I got so into describing a damn bathroom, but I have no regrets. Again if you guys have any couples you'd like to see let me know, I'm pretty open lol. Next chapter is when things start getting a little dark and mysterious.


End file.
